


Minding the Riddle

by BluePassion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Mental Breakdown, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluePassion/pseuds/BluePassion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny doesn't mind Tom Riddle that much, not anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minding the Riddle

Ginny didn't mind Tom Riddle, not anymore. Sure, she kept his presence a secret but that was only for his protection. And hers. She had been just an abhorrent host for him when he arrived for the second time and she was just making up for her previous bad behavior. 

It had been years since the incident with his diary, years since the Chamber of Secrets, when he arrived again. It had been the day before she turned 17 and he had constantly stayed with her for till this very day; four full years later. 

At first he came with nightmares. 

He whispered her biggest fears into her ringing ears. He whispered her doubts and her worries, her sorrows and her anguish, to her until that was all she thought about. For a very long time she did nothing but listen to his melodic voice remind her constantly, insistently, of what she tried so hard to not think about when she was young.

When Harry had broken up with her, dating her for two years was what he called 'a struggle', Tom told her how it was all her fault. She thought of all the reasons it wasn't; Harry's constant traveling, his bouts of anger, and even the lack of adventure in their day to day life. She could never really grasp on to any of them being the real reason he left her. She had come to accept Tom being right; it had to be her fault. At first it made her sad, made her feel lonely, but it didn't last. 

Tom never stopped talking. He always had a comment, always had a suggestion. She did not feel as lonely as she would have if it wasn't for Tom. She had to thank him for that. 

When she had gotten to close to the edge, when the constant reminders of her fears and her failures became to much, and she pondered the peace of death, he talked. He talked her away from the edge, back to safety. He talked her back to him. 

Tom Riddle saved her life. 

She owed him. 

She had paid her debt many times over but she knew it wasn't enough. Not ever. Not for him. 

In the darkest of nights, when Tom wasn't talking as much and she could almost feel the comfort of sleep, she thought that maybe it would never be enough for her either. 

When Tom got bored of dredging up fears, worries, and sorrows he found a new aspect of the redhead to play with; her secrets. He found the thoughts she kept hidden from Harry. He found the thoughts hidden from her family and from her friends. He even found the thoughts she was too humiliated by to share with the many flings she had in the few months following Harry's leaving. 

Tom Riddle found her most secret of passions and she was helpless to stop him. 

So helpless in fact that the first time he touched her she did not resist. It would set a precedent for the times to follow. 

It was only the second time, not many days later, that she realized she was bordering on glad that he found them. He acted in a way she knew Harry never would. 

Since that first time there had been numerous occasions of his soft hands playing over her naked frame. There had been times his mouth whispered filth into her ears that made her weak in the knees and there had even been times when he violated the parts of her she never wished to even think of. 

Today was one of those occasions. 

Today it was in her bedroom, late at night, when she was already undressed for bed. He was not always so kind about when he decided he wanted to play with her. 

His fingers began to dance over her throat. They always did; the tips of his fingers running gently over her windpipe, his thumb squeezing against her jugular until she felt like he controlled even her blood flow, that was now she knew another night like this would begin. It always did. 

Ginny would swear up and down that the way she felt was normal. He told her she was lying to herself. On the inside she knew he was right. 

While she never gave him the satisfaction of actually saying the words out loud the way her 'stop' turned to 'more' or the way her eyes glazed over as they reverted back to a feral state of lust was enough to satiate him. 

She didn't know the spell he used, never even saw a wand, but she was sure he put her under a spell. She wasn't sure when, maybe when he first appeared or maybe tonight perhaps. 

But as he trusted into her that night the spell must have been extra strong, indecently powerful, because she actually said the words that had been budding in her throat for the past month. So many times she had choked on them, refused to acknowledge them, and sent them to the deepest section of her brain that was only safe from Tom because he thought he had gotten every little secret out.

Tonight, as she came for the second time and as her body reveled in the sick and poison-tainted pleasure he gave her, she said 'I love you'. 

No, Ginny Weasley did not very much mind Tom Riddle at all anymore.


End file.
